The Heart of the Enterprise
by Zelda Scott
Summary: McCoy died in a transporter accident. How does the crew deal with his loss?


**The Heart of the Enterprise**

A Tribute to McCoy

_A/N: English is still not my native language. That's why I am glad John Schulte did once again a proof-reading. Thank you very much! If there are mistakes left, I am the one to blame. Feedback (positive and negative) is very welcome. Last but not least I like to thank Rax – she never stops to encourage me when I am concerned regarding content and/or language._

_Time Setting: Series (original mission)_

McCoy was dead and the atmosphere of grief and confusion was almost palpable. Even the Enterprise herself seemed to grief, hung powerless in space as if the majestic starship didn't want to believe that her heart was stolen. Aboard there was no one who had not known – and liked – the grumpy CMO.

Scotty turned tiredly the glass in his hands but today not even the amber gold cold improve his mood. Essentially, he thought, McCoy and he had had the same task; while McCoy kept the human components of the Enterprise in peak form Scotty did the same with the technical ones. However, Scotty never wanted to touch a machine again. Never. The chief engineer closed his eyes for a brief moment and there they were again, the pictures that followed him for now 17 hours and 23 minutes: The contours of McCoy manifesting on the transporter platform then dissolving just to materialize again. Scotty had put all his knowledge, all his flair into the task and worked on the transporter settings like a piano virtuoso. And then, when he had already looked at Kirk and Spock with a self-satisfied smile, he had seen by the look on Kirk's face that something must have gone terribly wrong. Before Scotty even realized what happened he had been pushed aside by the medical staff and Dr. M'Benga.

Somehow it seemed unreal to see McCoy's lifeless shape at the transporter platform, appearing uninjured but lifeless nonetheless. Even Spock had looked so stunned and when there was something that could knock you off the track it was the sight of a stunned Vulcan. The sound of the door buzzer interrupted Scotty's cheerless thoughts. He ignored it. Some seconds later the door opened nevertheless. It should not have been allowed to but the chief engineer didn't mind at all. Today nothing mattered. Kirk was standing in the opening, strangely undecided between in- and outside. Scotty only looked at him but remained silent. Nothing was of any importance. Kirk did a hesitant step to the inside of Scotty's cabin, just enough for the door to close.

"It was not your fault," he said finally.

Scotty didn't answer. He recognized the words for what they were: hollow and without meaning. Of course it was his fault. It had always been his greatest fear to make a mistake, a small nuance in a calculation only that would demand mercilessly a life. It had been McCoy's greatest fear that the transporter would not be able to put his molecules right back together. Scotty had made it real.

When the chief engineer didn't answer Kirk finally got seated on the chair opposite to him. The Captain took the empty bottle of the 104 year old Scottish Whiskey and recognized almost immediately McCoy's last birthday present to the chief engineer. The party had been just last week. Was it really only one week ago that they had laughed and celebrated?

Scotty continued staring somberly in his glass, trapped in a living nightmare that made him return again and again to the transporter room.

Finally Kirk accepted that he would achieve nothing. So he took his own grief with him and left the cabin of the chief engineer.

_So this is it like to be the party-pooper at one own funeral_, McCoy thought. At least he guessed that he thought it. _Heaven, this is something for Spock but nothing for an old country doctor. I always knew that I should not trust this damn transporter. When I talk to Jim next time I will tell him what I think of these gizmos._ McCoy stopped when he realized that he would most likely never have the opportunity to talk to Jim again. Damn, he had seen his own corpse! He had watched M'Benga when trying to reanimate him effortlessly. _Good boy, M'Benga. Very talented_. Shortly McCoy regretted that he never had told the other physician how much he valued him. Now it was probably too late. His body rested in the cryo chamber and would be handed over to the authorities on Vulcan for a transfer to Earth where Joanna would prepare everything for his funeral.

_When I am dead, why am I thinking?_ The thought was so crazy that McCoy went through it one part after another to get its sense. He tried evaluating the matter like Spock would have done, logically. And purely logical there were not that many options. It was possible that he hallucinated. Or he was dead and this was simply the end of which nobody knew how it would look like. Or he still lived in a strange non explicable way.

The CMO ragged his brain – at least what was left of it. He asked himself what to do next. During the memorial service he had tried to contact Jim and Spock but the attempt had been futile. Spock had looked as stoically as ever, this pointed-eared bastard and Jim had given one of his best appear-non-emotional-as-a-Vulcan performances. Now it was official, he, McCoy, was dead, even when he didn't feel that way. When he was in a dark room everything seemed to be as usual. He sensed his heart pulsating, felt his blood pumping through the Aorta and giving his body the nourishment it needed. A glance in a mirror had proven him unmistakable that he was not having a body any longer. Nada. Niente, Rien. _Must be some kind of phantom pain._

Vaguely McCoy remembered Lieutenant Peters who had died shortly before he had and who now inhabited the cryo chamber next to his own. Heat injuries were a very severe subject. He had been still so young. McCoy had spent the past five hours in searching the ship for him, for something left behind. He had found nothing, absolutely nothing. Shouldn't he been able to find some trace of Peters when they both were dead?

All this thoughts had not helped him any. He whished he could sigh. Now he was not the heart of the Enterprise anymore, like Jim had described him during the memorial service, but its ghost. Silently he glided through the next wall, through some decks and asked himself concerned what would happen when the starship would move. He had already noticed that he floated somehow – once he had taken a wrong turn by accident and had ended up in open space. That had brought him to the alarming conclusion that the ship would most likely go right through him should it start to move. And that would be the case in about five hours, as long as the repair works in the impulse drive would last…

Restless McCoy reached the damn transporter room that finally had indeed shattered his molecules. A technician lay under the console, another one checked the connections. The door opened and Jim entered, still with this expression like stone he always wore when he wanted to conceal his emotions behind his command persona. A little bit amused McCoy noted that the technicians sprung to attention whereby that didn't look very convincing in the one laying under the console on the floor. The man jumped up and banged his head.

Kirk didn't even bad an eyelid and only looked at DeFries questioningly, the higher ranked standing before the console. The man moistened his lips with his tongue and was finally able to say:

"We… ahm…. have found nothing so far, Sir."

"That is not sufficient, Lieutenant. A man had died. Absolutely unnecessary I like to add. And I won't allow beaming anything, even a pencil only when you can't tell me definitely what went wrong. "

"Yes, Sir. Hmm, but …"

"What Lieutenant?"

"Well, we…"

"Spit it out."

"We checked every circuits three times, Sir. And there was absolutely nothing where it didn't belong. The transporter works perfectly, Sir."

The man seemed to shrink visible under Kirks icy gaze although he had to look down to him. _Let the pure guy_, McCoy would have liked to say but like always after his accident it remained a wish. Jim was very close to loose his temper that much he recognized for sure. Another wrong word and the façade would crumble like a house of cards.

"Obviously it DID NOT work perfectly, Lieutenant DeFries. And if you have to check all circuits another three times, I want to know the reason."

Kirk turned without waiting for an answer. The door opened just in time to avoid a rough collision.

DeFries seemed slumping down.

"Puh…" was the only thing he managed to utter.

"Did you notice his glance?" Ensign Landon crawled up under the console.

"Could not have overlooked it. However, I can understand the captain. He and Dr. McCoy had been best friends. It must be hard to loose one's best friend just like that."

"I thought Mr. Spock is his best friend."

"Maybe although I can't figure how a friendship with a Vulcan should work. Be that as it may, the good doctor is a real loss. I had been seeing him only two weeks ago – had forgotten my safety shoes and one of this damn indicator relays kept falling right on my foot. He had torn me to pieces but reported nothing. And only one hour afterwards I felt in near mint condition."

"Yes, that was his manner. Grumpy but congenial. I only ask myself who would be his successor."

"Better don't think about it." Frustrated DeFries hammered his tricorder onto the console.

"Damn, we REALLY did check everything three times. There is NOTHING."

„And what should we do? There has to be some cause." It sounded resigned.

"Sure. But I like to be damned when I find it. If only Mr. Scott would be here…"

"Yes, he would find it for sure. However, it has been he to operate on the transporter when it happened. I would have never thought that something like this would happen to him."

"Me too. But he is after all only a normal human being. Like the captain. That is easy to forget."

"What are we doing now?"

"Continue as the captain had ordered. "

"Does that make sense?"

"Probably not. However, I also don't know what else to do."

DeFries picked up his tricorder again and Landon plunged his head deep into the guts of the transporter. _Good guys, both of them. Jim should not have put them through the mill, _McCoy thought. He regretted being the cause of so much suffering and decided to search for Spock, the only person that would spare him superfluous emotional outbursts.

He found the Vulcan in his cabin and for once McCoy didn't consider the environment temperature unbearable warm. The first officer sat at his desk and stared concentrated on the computer screen, which displayed to McCoy indefinable graphs. _Great, I am here now watching Spock watching his computer. I would be bored to death if I wouldn't be dead already._ The Vulcan didn't move a muscle and if anyone else would be concerned McCoy what have said he dreamed with open eyes. He was about to go when Spock activated abruptly the intercom.

"Spock to Captain Kirk."

"Kirk here. What's the matter?"

Spock's screen had split in two, displayed now besides the winding curves Jims face with large shadows under his eyes.

"I regret to disturb you, Captain, but it would be best if you could come to my quarters."

Jim frowned.

"On my way. Kirk out."

Kirk's face disappeared. Only few moments later the door buzzer announced a visitor – the captain's cabin was just beside the one of the first officer. _Jim doesn't look good_, McCoy thought when Spock let his guest enter his cabin. Although he had met the Captain only a short time ago in the transporter room hours seemed to have passed since then. Kirk seemed to have aged for years; the façade had crumbled at last.

"What is it, Spock?"

"I have found something you should take a look at."

"McCoy?"

"Positive, Captain."

Getting curious Kirk followed his first officer to his desk.

"As you know, Dr. McCoy had been beamed just in the same moment when a part of the ship wreck he was in had exploded."

"Yes. How should I forget? We had kept telling him to hurry but he won't listen."

"A very widespread human trait, Sir."

Kirk just gave him an acid look.

"If only his death had a meaning. But there was nobody in the wreck he could have rescued. To end like this…"

"I am not so sure whether it really was an end, Captain."

Kirk's head jerked up.

"What do you mean, Spock?"

"I have reason to believe that McCoy is not entirely dead."

"Explain."

"Space is not completely empty. It contains smallest parts that…"

"I know Spock. I have not overslept my whole time at the academy."

"That would never occur to me. After the regrettable accident I investigated the chemical composition of the room. That", he showed a graphic, "is the composition as it should be. This", he lay another one over the first, "displays the one before the explosion happened. The last one", he pushed another button and a third graphic became visible, "is the current state."

"The differences are considerable, Spock."

"Indeed, Captain. Actually I assume that during the transport the heat caused by the explosion interacted with the parts in space and influenced the process."

"In which respect?"

Spock replaced the pictures on screen with another one.

"I am of the opinion that the transporter worked perfectly. Nevertheless Dr. McCoy's personality had been disrupted from his body."

"Do you want to tell me that Bones still exists as a ghost?"

"I would not put it like that but essentially I agree."

McCoy held his breath. At least he would have done it if he would have been capable of doing so. Not completely dead? Damn transporter! If he would ever be reunited with his body even ten admirals could not make him step onto such an idiotic platform. Only… how was he supposed to get back?"

"How are we getting Bones back into his body?"

Kirk's voice was throaty.

"That, Captain, is a considerable problem. However, I assume that the transporter offers the only significant method of resolution."

"Well, I think we must find Bones first? Or better said that what is left of him?"

"Like I know Dr. McCoy he is most likely located in this room at the moment."

Kirk looked around and stared into the void of Spock's quarters.

"I see nothing."

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"That was not to be expected, Captain. All physical components of the doctor are located in the cryo chamber."

"Are you trying to say that Bones is haunting this room?"

"What you would describe as his soul should be present, Sir."

"If you can hear me Bones, try to attract attention."

Magnetized Kirk listened while McCoy put his heart and soul in screaming and testing all curses he knew of.

Spock now raised his second eyebrow too and used the lecturing tone he usually had reserved to instruct Chekov.

"Captain, I already said that the Doctor, should my hypothesis will prove to be correct, is not in the possession of means to 'attract attention'."

"But you possess such means, Spock."

"If you think of a mind meld, Captain, I advise urgently against it. I am sure that the doctor had not noticed it yet but with a probability of 99.3 it has to be supposed that his 'soul' can not survive without his body for any length of time. Most likely he will have 6 hours and 34 minutes left before the breakup will become irreversible. A mind meld would shorten that period of time considerably."

_Damn pointy-eared computer! Let's spit it finally out: how can I get back into my body? When I will be able to lay my hands on him, then…  
_  
"What can we do?"

"The first step must consist in putting the transporter back into a working condition."

"We need Scotty for that. – That would not be an easy task."

When Kirk overrode the door lock to the chief engineer's cabin for the second time in a very short period of time he was in a far better mood than before. Previously he had been here to take away some of Scotty's feelings of guilt although a small part of him had made the engineer responsible for Bones death. Now Kirk himself felt guilty. If Spock's theory was correct – and Spock's theories usually have the habit of being so – then it had been sheer bad luck. With McCoy's ghost close behind him the Captain noted the sad picture displayed to him.

The whole cabin had sunken into chaos. Shards lay spattered on the floor, mixed with cloths and parts of the wall decoration. Even the usually well cared for Scottish bagpipe had left its ancestral place and garnished the mess in a strange way.

Scotty himself was still sitting where Kirk had left him, now encircled by a considerable cohort of empty bottles that had undoubtedly contained hard liquor. The engineer's head had sunken onto the table plate and he was snoring gently.

Kirk needed some time to handle the situation. Then he didn't waste time in the effort of waking the engineer. Considering the amount of bottles the reaction to be expected would not have been gratitude. Instead he used the intercom to call M'Benga. The dark skinned physician reacted dozily and surprised but promised to come as soon as possible.

Seconds became eternities in which Kirk was condemned to inactivity standing in the devastated quarter. Finally it hummed and the dark skinned physician entered the room. In his gaze tiredness was mixed with mild curiosity. He looked questioningly at the captain first, then at the snoring chief engineer.

"Captain?"

Kirk hesitated atypically before filling M'Benga in. The physician now didn't look tired anymore but unbelieving.

"So you are trying to say that Dr. McCoy is just in this moment right beside me and probably kick me verbally in my ass?"

_You can bet your life on that, my boy!_

"Something like that. I know how crazy that sounds but it is a chance. Even if Spock should be wrong we just owe Bones that possibility."

_Well, I hope so…_

"Let's assume that it is that way. How do you want to proceed?"

"At first we need Scotty. It doesn't matter what he thinks about himself at the moment, he is the key to it all. Nobody knows the transporter better than he does."

"You want me to wake him?"

Kirk just nodded. The physician pulled his medical tricorder and approached the sunken down and snoring figure at the desk. M'Benga frowned when taking the readings.

"3.3 Promille. When McCoy is back I should have a talk with him about the alcohol problem of our chief engineer."

„It was Bones who bestowed him last week a bottle of Whiskey, I don't believe that you would have much success." Kirk grinned boyishly.

"Well, you are right, Sir. Nevertheless he should come to sickbay before such an excess to fetch some Dusexin which would prevent such extreme results."

"I really doubt that Scotty would have liked to prevent the results in this case, Doctor."

M'Benga searched wordlessly in his medical supplies and took a hypo out which he immediately administered to the chief engineer. The effect took place almost instantly; with slightly clouded vision Mr. Scott put himself erect.

"What…?"

"We must talk to you, Scotty. We need your help."

„I will never touch any machine Sir, even if you let keelhaul me."

"You will think otherwise for sure when you know what is going on."

McCoy haunted the conference room and was able to hold his temper barely. Only the knowledge that it wouldn't help him any to rumble kept him from doing so. _Stop talking and start doing something_! he would have liked to say but Spock, Jim, M'Benga and Scotty didn't even think about it. McCoy on the other side became more and more restless – one hour ago he had felt slightly dizzy. Of course that was nonsense but the feeling had not disappeared nevertheless – on the contrary it had become worse. Due to Spock's estimation he had only a little bit over three hours left before he would finally dispatch into his components. _Damn, let's move, I am dying!_

"We should finally do something", Kirk said like to answer McCoy's silent accuse.

"Aye, Sir", Scotty sighed. He was not yet convinced but looked already better.

"How long will it take?" M'Benga asked.

"The changes are of a comparatively easy nature. However, we should assure beforehand that the transporter is in perfect working condition", Spock replied. Kirk got up.

"Let's go."

DeFries look up startled when nearly all senior officers of the Enterprise entered the transporter room at once. Landon and he had just disassembled all parts – for the fifth time – and were now about to put them all back together. Their mood was worse than ever. When DeFries saw Mr. Scott he nourished hope. If there would be someone to find a solution, then it would be him.

Landon has stepped hurriedly beside him. He tried to spring to attention while avoiding his superiors' look at the same time.

"Obviously the transporter is at least at the moment in no working condition", Spock stated dryly with a side glance on all the parts splattered around the room.

"It will take hours to reassemble everything", M'Benga sighed. McCoy was close to a panic. _If I ever get out of this I will never ever set my foot in this room. Never. I will…_

"55.35 minutes should suffice when I assist Mr. Scott."

Kirk turned his head towards his second in command.

"I hope you are not trying to be funny, Spock."

"By no means, Captain. I state facts only."

"Captain…," DeFries started unsurely. He didn't feel too well in his skin.

"It's OK, Mr. DeFries. Call it a day. You too, Mr. Landon."

For a short time the lieutenant appeared to want to say something, but then he thought otherwise and limited himself to a brief "Aye, Sir."

Kirk took a look onto his chronometer. Slowly he was getting a little restless. Due to Spock's estimation McCoy had only one hour left. He noticed that a large portion of the grief that he had pushed back since Spock's call returned. What, if they won't succeed this time? Once again the captain tried to figure out an Enterprise without her grumpy CMO but he didn't succeed. Somehow McCoy was the focal point, joined them to a unit. There could be nobody to replace him ever. That it was just him to have a transporter accident… For a moment he thought about what Bones would tell would he be there. Kirk smiled weakly. All that should be over now? His face darkened. McCoy was his consciousness, the reason for him to make the right decisions, that also the human factor was considered. McCoy was not allowed to die.

Kirk walked back to the desk and used the intercom.

"Kirk to Spock."

"Spock here, Captain."

"How are you doing? The 55.35 minutes you estimated expired over one hour ago, Spock."

"Quite correct, Captain. That time period corresponded to the rebuilding of the normal working condition of the transporter. However, Mr. Scott and I were forced to adjust some of the original settings for the doctor's rescue."

"What modifications?"

"It…"

"Okay, Okay, Spock. I think I don't want to know at all. How long before you can risk a try?"

"6.2 minutes, Sir.

"On my way. Kirk out."

McCoy had difficulty in even concentrating enough to be furious. His perception now contained considerable gaps; nevertheless he managed to see the irony in the whole affair. _You always wanted that your pointy-eared friend miscalculated himself only once. Well, now your wish had been fulfilled. Unfortunately you will pay with your life for that. I should have stayed at home. An old country doctor as me doesn't belong on a space ship. I…_

"Well, either it will work now or we can scratch the molecules together by hand, Sir."

"Mr. Scott, you know as much as I do that it is impossible to scratch molecules by…"

"Okay, Spock. We don't have time for that now. How do you intend to proceed?"

"Since Dr. McCoy's body is not in its best condition I will house his Katra."

"You want to beam yourself? Is that sure enough?"

"The risk is acceptable. In addition it is possible that my first estimate had been a little bit too optimistic."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Before Dr. McCoy's 'soul' will cease to exist there will be with a probability of 96.4 a period of disorientation. Then a return into his body – or in the one of somebody else won't be possible anymore."

"How long?"

"2.6 minutes, Captain."

"Better hurry."

„Aye, Sir."

Scott felt his mouth went dry. Had he miscalculated himself? Was there something he might have overlooked? Kirk smiled at him reassuringly. His gaze expressed confidence and tensed expectation. Being confident was easy when you don't know what has to happen in the background… However, Scott didn't have any choice. Either they would save both Spock and the doctor or they would loose both.

The chief engineer took another deep breath then he shoved the controllers downwards without hesitation. Spock disappeared, Scott changed some settings and then he got the all deciding transport done.

Like with McCoy so many hours ago the figure of the Vulcan became visible at first then dissolved just to become visible again… Scotty sweated and he pulled his final ace. The light in the transporter room jittered when all not needed energies were sapped from other areas to support the operation with all available resources. He finally pulled down the controllers to the limit. Now there was nothing left to do. Spock was standing on the platform, a little bit unsteady but unmistakable. M'Benga hurried in his direction and scanned him.

"Physically everything is all right", he announced.

"Spock?" Kirk asked and then, a little bit later and with a hoarse voice: "Bones?"

"Here Jim."

"Spock and I are here."

Ten hours later McCoy starred into his mirrors and was glad about every wrinkle and about each grey hair. Almost greedily he sucked in the air into his lunges. What a wonderful feeling!

He was dead on his feet but to glad living again to even think about sleep. When he left for the corridor plenty of people threw surprised gazes at him. Jim had made an announcement but the memorial service was very present in the mind of the most. No wonder, there had been hours in between only. The CMO led his steps to the chief engineer's cabin where Scotty seemed to be more then delighted to see him.

"Nice to have you back, Doctor."

"It is nice to BE back, Scotty. Thanks."

"You thank me? I wanted to apologize."

„Apologize?"

„I am responsible for the machines on board."

"The mess with the transporter was not your fault. How did Spock phrase it? The probability of the concurrence of all events leading to the regrettable incident is 0.0025."

Scotty grinned mischievous when he listened to McCoy's skilful Vulcan parody.

"Anyways…"

"No buts, Scotty. You are much too valuable for the Enterprise to just give in. I am glad being here again – and I am glad that you saved me."

McCoy's welcome party were frequented much stronger then the former memorial service. Many were just curious to learn about what had happened but more that it had something to do with the transporter was not to be known.

McCoy searched himself a small corner and nipped at his Saurian brandy. The whole hype around his person was too much for him.

"Damn pointy-ear", he grumbled. Although he had spoken silently Kirk obviously had heard him.

"I thought you were grateful to Spock."

"I AM grateful. However, do you know what that green blooded walking computer had told me?"

Kirk raised in his eyebrows in a perfect Spock imitation. McCoy smiled weekly.

"He told me: Dr. McCoy, better use your gratefulness productively in realizing that the transporter room did not only contribute to the regrettable incident but also to your rescue. You would spare us all a lot of protractions when you would reconsider your refusal to be beamed again."

Kirk grinned. "Well, I think he is right."

"You can't be serious, can you? He could have just pretended missing me."

The captain became solemnly. "He did, Bones. We all did miss you."

FIN

Story by Zelda Scott, 2005 (English Version 2006)  
Star Trek is a registered trademark of the Paramount Picture Corporation; no copyright infringement is intended.

http/www.sttos.de Zelda.Scottweb.de


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